“Mom,what the fuck is going on?!” TJ shouted over his mother’s panicked demands.
Shestopped her bustling to face him, as tears collected in her eyes. “Your auntwas murdered,” she answered in a voice too calm and controlled, and I couldsense the inevitable storm brewing. “We think that whoever killed her is nowfollowing me, so—”
“Wait,murdered?! But you, you, you said—”
“Iknow what I said. It’s what I was told. But I was wrong,” she said, beforeerratically shaking her head. “They.Theywere wrong.”
TJplayed a stark contrast to his mother’s cool and calm demeanor by clenching hishands into fists and thrusting them violently to his temples. “No!” he shouted,and I worried someone might hear. Particularly someone that might havefollowed. Someone who might have Grace Allan’s blood on his or her hands. “No,no, no! Nobody would do that to her! Why?!”
Ihad tried to keep my distance, to separate myself from a mother’s need to breakthis horrible news to her son. But now, with the potential threat of hisshouting and the possibility of him drawing attention where none of us wantedit, I stepped in and offered my unsolicited help.
“Laddie,” I said, placing my hand on his shoulder and grippingfirmly. “I’m sorry foreverythin’ ye’regoin’ through. Truly. And if ye need to scream or cry orwhatever ye need to do to feel better, I won’t stop ye. But Icannaeallow ye to do it here.”
“Fuckyou,” he spat bitterly into my face. “Who the fuck are you, anyway? Why thefuck should we even trust you, whenyouassholes toldus she fuckingfell?”
“Forwhat it’s worth,” I replied, unfazed by his belligerence, “I never thoughtyeraunt fell. And I’d like to think I’m the man who’sgonnaprove it.”
TJstudied me with an intensity that left me feeling vulnerable and naked. It waslike he had the ability to see my secrets and the reasons I was here now andnot in Edinburgh. I watched as the truth that his aunt’s life had been stolen,seeped into the skin, and I saw his angry resolve crumble under the weight ofhis unimaginable sorrow.
“Iwannacall Dad,” he said abruptly, in a voicethreatening to break, as he turned from me to look at his mother.
Rosienodded. “Put on your shoes and you can call him in the car—”
“Ineed to call himnow,” TJ interrupted, but his voice lacked the snideattitude it held before. Now, he was a young boy in a teenager’s body whodesperately the comfort of his father.
“Wecan’t—”
“Goahead,” I gently interrupted, patting his shoulder, before he ran off to thebathroom and closed the door behind him.
Rosieturned a stern look on me, as if to scold me for stepping into the middle ofher business, a place I knew I didn’t belong. So, before she had the chance tospeak, I said, “I’m sorry. But I know all too well what it’s like to need atalk withyerfather, and I know all too well howmuch it aches when ye can’t.”
Shedidn’t reply after that. She just nodded and continued to collect various itemsstrewn about, while TJ cried on the phone to his father, and I guarded thedoor.
AsI stood there, with my back against the peephole and my eyes on Rosie’s franticbustle, I prayed I could give them peace, so that they could bury their sisterand aunt, knowing that nothing was left undone.
Andeven more than that, I hoped I could keep them safe.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ROSIE
“Idon’t understand why you didn’t tell me sooner,” TJ said from the backseat ofBrodie’s car. “You knew forhours. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Becausethat’s not the type of thing you tell someone over the phone,” I mutteredexhaustedly, wishing for a glass of something strong. Or the whole bottle.
“Yeah,I guess telling me while you were in the middle of a total meltdown wasbetter,” he mumbled sardonically, and I bit my tongue to avoid engaging anyfurther.
Iwasn’t sure he would ever forgive me for not telling him as soon as I foundout, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive myself for that either. But after theweek I’d had, I was emotionally drained and tired of feeling anythingaltogether. So, instead, I chose to be distant and closed off until we reachedBrodie’s house, where Rick was waiting with his findings.
Aswe drove, I noticed Brodie repeatedly checking in his rear-view mirror. Theface he wore was one of concern and aggression, with his brow furrowed and jawlocked tight, and when I asked what he was looking for, he grunted a surly, “Nothin’.” But I knew it wasn’t nothing. I knew he feared wewere being followed. Yet, whenever I looked behind my seat and through the rearwindow, I saw nothing but a stretch of road and the expansive, natural beautyof the Highlands. I hated that I couldn’t spend even a moment to just enjoy it.
Weturned onto a dirt road and drove for another minute or two before the housecame into view and stole the breath from my lungs. With its brick structure,tall peaks, arched windows, and grand front entrance, I had never seen such abeautiful house before in my life.
“Oh,my God,” I muttered under my breath. “This is where you live?”
“Don’tget excited,” Brodie laughed. “It’s not mine. Rick lets me rent one of hiseleven bedrooms.”
“IsRick afreakin’ Lord?”
